


Supply and Demand, Part 1

by Spinofflady



Series: Race to the Edge [12]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9112978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinofflady/pseuds/Spinofflady
Summary: After Hiccup's "Viggo obsession" gets slightly out of hand, Astrid falls sick, and Catia hesitantly diagnoses it as a fatal illness. Everyone determinedly searches for a cure, but instead discover Viggo Grimborn’s real agenda and find him to be far more than a malicious dragon hunter.





	1. Chapter 1

Hiccup brought his hammer down on the hot iron, and the two pieces of metal clashed together with a satisfying _bang._ He continued until the iron was too cool to bend, and reluctantly set it back it the fire. He surprised himself by how much his usually steady hands shook as he set the tongs down.

Absentmindedly, he took a sword down off the rack to sharpen it, and it took him several minutes to actually realize what he was doing. This sword didn’t need to be sharpened. He had filed it just the day before, and it hadn’t been used once.

He shook his head and groaned as he realized he’d let the iron overheat. As he pulled it out of the fire, it dawned on him that he truly didn’t know what he was making. He was simply doing something without any thought.

Hiccup dipped the metal in the water to cool it, and tossed it angrily into the scrap pile. Something was wrong with him lately, though he didn’t have any idea what. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t speak without stuttering, and his hands were unsteady as a newborn calf.

He had considered talking to Catia about it—maybe it was another side effect of the Perondis, but she hadn’t mentioned anything like that. But still, it was too far from normal to ignore, and it was progressively getting worse.

Hiccup glanced at the sun, noticing how dark it was getting. He should probably head up to the clubhouse for supper, but he wasn’t even remotely hungry—he hadn’t been for the past week. He forced himself to eat, but could only stomach a little at a time without nausea setting in. That was also slightly concerning.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, either. For weeks he had tossed and turned, but only found rest in the wee hours of the morning. Even then, he’d be lucky to get a solid hour of sleep before he woke up and had to do it all over again.

If only this stupid war was over and they could all go home! If only Viggo would-

He realized he was thinking about Viggo again—the war seemed the only thing his mind could concentrate on. War, war, and more war. He could not stop thinking about war.

He stopped suddenly, and realized he had been walked, without ever realizing he had left the forge, all the way to the beach. Shocked, Hiccup grimly turned to find Catia. This was getting out of hand.

He found her in her hut, on the floor, stretching and trying to widen her spilt even further…as if it were possible. “Hi,” she greeted, easing herself down on the floor and leaning back to rest on the leg behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“I n-need help,” he said quietly. “I d-don’t know what kind, and I don’t even know if y-you can help me, but I f-figured you of anyone can.”

“Have a seat,” she instructed, gesturing to the floor beside her. She moved out of her split and sat cross-legged on the floor, pushing her knees on the ground. “What do you think I can help with?”

“You w-were apprenticed t-to a Healer, r-right?”

“Yeah.”

“And Healers can d-diagnose all kinds of weird stuff, right?”

“Yes. Where are you going with this?” she eyed him strangely.

“There’s s-something wrong with m-me,” he said hesitantly, unable to think of a better way to put it.

“I gathered that,” Catia put in, still looking at him warily. “What kind of wrong? Because if you’re going to make this awkward, go to Fishlegs and spare us both the embarrassment.”

Hiccup finally caught her drift. “Oh, it’s not l-like that,” slightly embarrassed himself. “I don’t e-even know if Healers t-treat this.”

“Well, what is it already?”

“I don’t know. I c-can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t even th-think straight. I thought I might be catching some bug at first, b-but it’s only g-gotten worse. Now my hands won’t st-stop shaking, and I can’t t-talk without stuttering.”

Catia looked at him, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, I can diagnose it alright,” she told him, fighting a giggle. “I’ve seen it plenty of times before. It’s called ‘in-love-itis,’ and just about every male your age gets it at some point or another.”

She thought he was kidding. “N-no, this is s-serious, Tia. I know h-how I am when I’m n-nervous. Th-this is different.” He knew something was wrong. She was the only person who might be able to help. “P-please. I promise it’s n-not normal. I-I need help.”

Catia gazed at his pleading eyes, and recognized how incredibly scared he was. Hiccup always had a bit of a stutter, but this was much worse than she had ever heard. She could remember something she’d read about what extreme stress could do to the body, and it seemed quite similar, especially the shaking. If only there was a way to figure out what was going on in his mind.

He clearly didn’t know, or he very likely wouldn’t have come to her. He claimed he couldn’t think straight, so there wasn’t much point in talking to someone who wasn’t much of a talker anyway. A thought suddenly hit her.

She jumped up and grabbed a piece of paper and pencil off her desk. She passed it to him, and he was clearly confused. “I need to take care of something really quick,” she explained, slipping on her boots. “While I’m gone, I want you to doodle. Anything that pops into your head, draw it on the paper. Anything.”

He nodded, and she stepped outside so that he would be distracted by her. Catia really didn’t know if this would work, but it seemed the most promising out of her options. She walked through the snow to Hiccup’s hut and took the liberty of entering. She was surprised to find that it was a complete mess, with all of his possessions strewn around the hut.

There was an open notebook on the desk, and in it battle plans had been drawn, though scribbled out at some point. His dagger was out and on the bed, of all places, next to his pillow. Clothes were flung around on the floor, clothes she had never seen him actually were, and there was a plate of spoiled, uneaten food under the bed.

She could hardly believe she was in the right place. This didn’t seem like Hiccup’s room at all. Snotlout’s maybe, but not Hiccup. There was definitely something wrong with him, and she was starting to realize just how bad it was.

She walked back to her own hut, deciding that she had given Hiccup plenty of time to draw. As she entered he glanced up at her nervously, but relaxed when he recognized her.  She knew for a fact he wasn’t usually this jumpy.

“May I see what you drew?” she asked, holding her hand out for the paper. He passed it to her, his hand trembling violently. No, this was not normal at all. She glanced down at the paper immediately noticing that out of the many different shapes and figures he had drawn, none of them were finished. There was a half-drawn dragon in the center, some framing lines around the edges of the paper, and incoherent shapes and lines scattered around the page.

But as she stared at the jumbled artwork, it started to piece together. Slowly turning the paper 90 degrees, she realized what he’d sketched. It was the Dragon Hunter symbol, but what truly scared Catia, was that he didn’t seem to realize he’d drawn it.

Catia showed him the picture. “Is this what you meant to draw?” she asked quietly.

Hiccup nervously shook his head. “Y-you said ‘d-doodle. It w-wasn’t supposed t-to be anything.”

“Hiccup, you drew the Dragon Hunter crest without even trying,” she told him, beginning to understand what was going on. “This war is going to kill you if you don’t stop worrying so much.”

“I c-can’t h-help it,” he said, stumbling painfully over the words. It seemed harder for him to talk now. “Am I-I g-going to d-die?” He looked thoroughly terrified, and Catia realized she had probably only stressed him out further.

“Listen,” she said, sitting down beside him and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’re not going to die. You just need a little help to get back normal. I’m going to help. So will everyone else, I’m sure. Just take a deep breath, and calm down.”

Hiccup tried, he really did, but his mind was so overwrought that he only succeeded in tearing up a little, which was certainly not an improvement. His shoulders slumped in exhaustion as he shakily brushed the tears out of his eyes.

“When is the last time you had a good night’s rest?” Catia asked, standing him up and leading him to the door.

“C-can’t r-remember,” he answered softly, following willingly.

“It shows,” she replied, referring to the dark circles under his sunken in eyes. His cheeks were hallow and he looked much skinnier compared to when she first met him. “Come on. You need some rest.”

She walked him up to his messy hut, and sent him to bed making sure that sunlight could enter the room. Mainly because she knew how easy it was to fall asleep in the sun, but also because he would likely be less restless when he could clearly see his surroundings.

Satisfied that he would be able to rest, Catia walked up to the clubhouse to find Astrid. She knew Hiccup better than anyone, and would probably be much better help than the others.

. . .

“What?” Astrid gaped, staring at Catia in horror.

“He’s basically going insane,” Catia repeated, “Keep your voice down, please. I don’t want the others to hear.”

“How?” Astrid pressed. “He was fine a few days ago!”

“I’m not sure he was. This Viggo obsession has been going on as long as I’ve been here, and it seems that it’s been longer than that. He can’t keep his mind off of the war, and it’s making him lose sanity.”

“What makes you think he’s insane?” Astrid went on, crossing her arms.

“When is the last time you talked with him? He can’t speak without stuttering.”

“He’s always stuttered.”

“Not like this he hasn’t. He’s unsteady and he can’t focus on anything but Viggo. He can’t sleep, claims he can’t eat either.”

Astrid’s mind leapt back a few years, to the Snoggletog when she was only 12. She had been sent with Hiccup to go get some firewood. It was a completely normal thing, but Hiccup passed out while walking to the wood. She later found out that Hiccup had eaten in almost a week because Snotlout had bullied him into thinking he didn’t deserve to eat.

Of course, Snotlout was given a good beating, and it probably would’ve been worse if everyone knew what Hiccup really went through. That year had been terrible for Hiccup. He’d turned 13, and everyone expected him to “man up” to their standards. He’d been bullied relentlessly, and as she thought about it, starving himself was Hiccup’s first response.

Come to think of it, Viggo was a bully, one who knew exactly how to mess with Hiccup’s brain. “What should we do?” Astrid said finally, realizing that Catia was very likely right.

“I’m not sure yet,” Catia answered honestly. “I don’t know that there is much we can do. But you should go stay with him; I’m worried he might try to hurt himself.”

Astrid nodded, again thinking back to the gossip she overheard years ago, about Hiccup harming himself on purpose. It was only a rumor, and she’d never asked Hiccup about it, but knew he might just do something along those lines. He had a bad habit of beating himself up, and she didn’t want it to move past things he said.

Anger settled in her stomach as she ran back to his hut. How dare Viggo hurt Hiccup like this! No matter, she would make sure Hiccup would be alright in the end. He would recover if she had a say in the matter. Or at least she hoped he would.

It took Hiccup several days to start eating and sleeping normally again, and even then, Astrid still had to stay with him the majority of the time. Catia made him read every book she could find, and tell her in detail what they were about—anything to keep his mind off Viggo and Dragon Hunters.

Within a week she had him painting, but made him use his right hand so he had to think more about what he was doing, for the same purpose. It worked wonders. His hands became steady again, and his stutter was nearly gone. Soon his personality was as it should be, and things finally settled down at Dragon’s Edge.

Thing were far from settled at Viggo’s base, however.


	2. Chapter 2

Viggo was furious. His spies had informed him that somehow Hiccup had simply “bounced back to normal.” People didn’t just “bounce back.” He was a master of mental torture; Hiccup shouldn’t have been able to recover so quickly.

Viggo sat down at his desk, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the map on the wall. How had this failed? It didn’t seem possible. But as he sat brooding, his attention was turned to the Maces and Talons game piece stood at the edge of the table. It was the shield maiden, the most powerful piece on the board. If the shield maiden was lost, there was almost no hope of winning.

Viggo thoughtfully picked up the piece, remembering the conversation he’d had with his brother weeks before. _“He doesn’t seem like one to lose his nerve, much less sanity.”_ Ryker’s words wrung loud in Viggo’s ears. He should have known Hiccup was still too strong to give in. That boy was too stubborn, too determined, to give in.

What was it that kept him going? Surely he wasn’t invincible! He was a puny, one-legged Viking who couldn’t lift his own weight!

Perhaps it was time to set into action his final plan. Perhaps it was time to strike Hiccup where it would hurt the most. Yes, it was time to end this war, and end it with Hiccup’s surrender.

Taking the shield maiden with him, he walked out of his tent to announce his plans.

. . .

Astrid walked down the snowy beach, shuffling her feet through the snow. She was searching for her axe. She had accidentally dropped it while walking across one of the bridges and now could not find it in the snow.

She sighed heavily, scanning the area for her weapon. All she could see was a blanket of white, and a few rocks protruding from it. She made her way closer to the caves, kicking around in the snow to find her lost item.

She finally caught sight of it and rushed to pick it up. She smiled and turned to leave, but something just inside the caves caught her attention. Curious, she walked in, axe ready to use on whatever danger might lay ahead.

But it was only a small, wooden crate with a Maces and Talons piece on top. She didn’t know anything about the game, and therefore couldn’t identify the piece, so she moved it off the crate and took off the lid.

A horrible, putrid scent rose to meet her. The crate was full of what appeared to be a thick grass, but it smelled horrible. Whatever it was had obviously sat in the crate for several weeks and had rotted and molded.

“What is that?” A voice behind her said, and Astrid turned to find Heather standing in the cave entrance.

“I don’t know,” Astrid replied with a shrug. “Whatever it was is long gone. It’s completely rotten.”

“Let’s just get rid of it then,” Heather said, helping Astrid to carry the crate out of the cave. They had only walked a few steps when the bottom of the box fell out, along with its disgusting contents. The rotten grass landed on their feet.

“Ew!” Heather moaned, trying to kick it away. “There are maggots in it!”

“Gross,” Astrid muttered, brushing the nastiness off her boots. “This stuff is so slimy.”

“Let’s just cover it in snow,” Heather suggested. “It won’t smell that way and it will be gone by the time the snow melts.”

“Good idea,” Astrid agreed, wiping her hands off on her coat. “Ugh, I hate maggots.”

The two covered the green slimy grass up with snow, and together walked back up to the clubhouse for lunch. They told Catia about the disgusting adventure, who told them to go wash their hands before they got rotten herbs over everything.

Snotlout, Dagur, and the twins came barreling into the clubhouse, tracking muddy snow in with them. “Hiccup and Fishface are geeking out over something,” Snotlout announced. “They said to eat without them.”

“We can wait,” Astrid said, knowing better that to take Snotlout’s word.

“No, they actually wanted us to go ahead,” Dagur said, reaching for a loaf of bread. Heather slapped his hand away. “Sorry!” he grumbled defensively. “I’ll go wash my hands.”

 “Well, I guess we can eat then,” Catia said, setting some yak chops down on the table. “Who knows how long this geek session will last.”

Everyone laughed and sat down for lunch.

. . .

Hiccup and Fishlegs walked down to the clubhouse, hoping there would be something left for them to eat. They had been so wrapped up in their work that they had completely ignored the hunger pains gnawing at their stomachs. Now they regretted it.

The clubhouse was empty, but there was a small plate of food left of the table for each of them. A small note was placed beside them and read “Wash your own dishes.” It wasn’t signed but it was obviously Astrid’s handwriting.

The two ate their lunch and went their separate ways. Fishlegs went to go check on the new Night Terror perch to make sure it had withstood the storm the night before. Hiccup, though he didn’t specify where he was going, went to spend some time with his girlfriend. Their midnight walks had stopped weeks before, due to the cold weather, but they still managed to find moments alone.

He meandered up to Astrid’s hut, trying his best not to draw attention to himself. Catia had their relationship figured out; Heather probably did too, but no one else needed to know just yet.

He knocked swiftly on her door, and entered knowing she wouldn’t mind. He stepped in and shut the door behind him, turning to find Astrid sitting on the edge of her bed, clutching her stomach and doubled over in pain.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hurriedly sitting down beside her.

“I don’t know,” Astrid replied softly.

The answer took Hiccup by surprise. He knew she wasn’t alright, but expected her to act like she was. She was definitely not okay. “What’s wrong?” he went on, moving to kneel in front of her.

“My stomach,” she grimaced. “I was fine earlier but now…now it hurts really bad.”

“Is it an ache or a knife pain?”

Astrid thought for a minute. “Both,” she said finally. “It hurts all over. Even in my back.” She gave a soft whimper and leaned forward, pain written across her face.

“Do you want something for the pain? I know we have some Feverfew.”

Astrid screwed up her face. “Which is worse?”

Hiccup had to agree with her. Feverfew was so bitter it was almost worse than the pain it helped to ease. “Scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?”

“Twenty,” Astrid answered without hesitation. “I’ve never felt anything like this.”

“Worse than having broken bones set?” He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead; her temperature was obviously elevated. 

“Yeah.” Her response was cut off by a cry of pain.

Hiccup stood. “I’m getting Catia.”

Astrid nodded, grimacing. “Hurry.”

. . .

Catia slowly shut her notebook, realizing that she didn’t need it to diagnose the illness. She had seen it before, and as much as she didn’t want Astrid to have it, she couldn’t deny the truth. She bit her lip, trying to decide what she should do next.

Why? Why Astrid? Couldn’t it have been someone else? Astrid was such a dear friend to all of them, and far more to Hiccup. Why her?

Catia stared at Astrid, laid back on her bed, covered with a fur. She was breathing deeply and trying to ignore the pain, but it was only going to get worse. Hiccup sat beside her, one hand holding hers and running the other through her hair. He would be heartbroken, if not worse.

This was the worst part of being a healer. How could she tell Astrid? Or Hiccup? Or anyone, for that matter? What was she supposed to say?

But something had to be said, and she knew it did. “Hiccup?” she started quietly. “May I have a word?”

He stood reluctantly and followed her outside. “What is it?” he asked, noticing her sad demeanor. “What’s wrong?”

She swallowed. This was so hard. “Astrid…” she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say something she so desperately wanted not to be true. “Astrid has Freya’s Fever.”

“What’s that?” Hiccup asked, confused as to why she was so upset.

“No one really knows,” Catia started, unable to make eye contact. “It’s so rare that I don’t have any idea what causes it, much less how to treat it.”

“So what should we do?”

Did he not understand? “There is nothing we can do! There is no cure, there is no treatment; there isn’t even something to ease the pain!”

“Of course there’s a cure,” Hiccup said stubbornly. “There’s a cure for the Scourge of Odin, so there has to be a cure for this.”

“You don’t get it, do you? There is no cure, and even if there was, once the vomiting starts, we wouldn’t even be able to administer it. Victims of this sickness lose so much strength from the fever and so much fluid from vomiting that there is truly no way to save them. I’ve tried before, Hiccup, and all I’ve managed to do is fail.”

Catia thought back to the last case of the fever. Ahraya had been so close to finding a cure. The man had been improving. But he had died, and soon after, so had Ahraya.

“Are you saying she’s dying?” It wasn’t Hiccup, it was Heather. She must have heard their conversation.

Catia nodded slowly, hanging her head.  “No one has ever survived it.”

“How do you know?” Hiccup argued, unwilling to believe there was nothing they could do.

“I have a book. It records every case of the Fever for centuries. No one has ever lived.”

Hiccup pursed his lips. “Heather, stay with Astrid. I want to see this book. Someone has to have survived at some point.”

Catia sighed and motioned Hiccup ahead of her. She followed, pausing next to Heather. “Try to get food and water in her while you still can. As much water as possible. If she brings it back up, stop. We want to get as much fluid as we can in her, and we want her to keep it down.”

Heather nodded, and the three parted ways.

. . .

While Hiccup looked through Catia’s records, she explained the situation to everyone else. Even Snotlout was upset. Everyone followed Catia back to her hut, determined to find a cure even though she claimed there was none.

Hiccup was still flipping through the pages of her book when they arrived.

“Have you found one yet?” Catia asked, pulling a few books off her shelves.

“No,” Hiccup answered softly. “But it would help if I didn’t have to go through all the records of the Scourge of Odin as well. Especially since everyone who had Freya’s Fever had the Scourge first.”

“What did you say?” Catia said, suddenly interested.

“Everyone who had Freya’s Fever had the Scourge of Odin first.”

Catia looked over his shoulder and scanned the page. “You’re right. I never noticed that.”

“What I want to know,” Ruffnut said, sitting down in a chair. “Is why is it always Astrid?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Fishlegs put in, spreading out several books on Catia’s bed, since there wasn’t any more room on the table.

“Well,” Ruffnut went on. “It was Astrid who got stranded and drifted in the ocean all day. It was Astrid whose house got destroyed. It was Astrid who got the Scourge of Odin. It was Astrid who got shot in the leg with an arrow, then a grappling hook, and almost drowned. Then she almost died when everybody on Berk got sick. And now Astrid is the one with the incurable disease. It’s like she’s cursed or something.”

“She’s not cursed,” Hiccup said flatly. “Granted, bad things do keep happening to her, but she’s not cursed.”

“Ruff has a point though,” Catia jumped in. “There is a trend in the bad luck. It’s as if someone is targeting her.”

“I always targeted Astrid,” Dagur finally spoke up. “It was no accident that her house was destroyed.”

“Why would you target her and not me?” Hiccup asked, obviously confused.

“Because targeting her is targeting you. If something happens to Astrid, you react. I wanted to draw you out, so I targeted Astrid.” Dagur paused. “Not that I’m proud of that, of course.”

“That’s it!” Catia shouted suddenly. “Bad things keep happening to Astrid because Viggo knows it will hurt Hiccup! He must want something, and he’s trying to get it by using Astrid!”

“But what would he want?” Hiccup said, just as confused as everyone else. “He’s a businessman. He wants dragons. I can’t see how this would gain him anything, except revenge, maybe.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Catia shook her head, suddenly understanding what she knew and Viggo wanted. “Ryker and Viggo Grimborn aren’t just Dragon Hunters. The Grimborns come from a long line of Healers, known for discovering the cure to the Scourge of Odin. But people messed up the cure, and it ended up causing the sickness instead of curing it, and they blamed the Grimborns for it.

“Their entire family was shunned for decades. They tried to earn back their namesake, but no one had forgotten what they did. When Viggo came along, he decided to change what the Grimborns stood for, and started hunting dragons. Ryker helped him, but their younger sister, Ahraya continued practicing as a healer. Viggo hated her for that.

“However, she eventually stumbled across what Viggo knew could make him rich beyond all belief—the cause of Freya’s Fever. He tricked her into telling him, and wanted her to find the cure. He gave her money and supplies, and she got close, she really did. I personally believe she knew what the cure was, but didn’t live long enough to test it.”

“What happened to her?” Tuffnut prodded, clearly interested in the story.

Catia sighed. “One day, she got sick and died only a day later. No one knows what it was, but when Viggo showed up a few days after, he was furious.”

“That his sister died? That doesn’t seem like something to be furious about,” Hiccup added. “Sad, but not furious.”

“How did you know this Ahraya?” Fishlegs asked, equally interested.

“When I was ten years old, she bought me from a slave market and allowed me to be her apprentice. Viggo didn’t like me at all. He said I knew too much about things that should be kept within their family.

“I was with Ahraya when she died. I will never forget her last words to me. She told me that I knew something Viggo wanted, and I needed to run before he could find me.”

“What did he want?” Fishlegs pressed.

“I honestly have no idea. Ahraya never told me what that something was. I guess I always assumed Viggo would ask me, if he ever found me.” She suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth, a look of horror passing across her face.

“What?” Hiccup pried, glancing around the room. “What’s wrong?”

“Viggo wants to know the cure. He knows the cause, and now he wants the cure. He knew how to infect people with the Scourge of Odin, but he wanted the cure. He knew if Astrid was sick, you would stop at nothing to get her well. That’s why he showed up at the Buffalord’s island. He knows how to cause Freya’s Fever, and somehow infected Astrid with it, so that you will find him the cure.”

“Supply and demand,” Hiccup muttered, remembering the strange words Viggo had said to him that day. Hiccup had assumed Viggo was talking about the Dragon Eye, but he was actually talking about the Dragon Riders. “We’re his supply!”

“No, I’m his supply,” Catia whispered. “He didn’t set up the traps to kill you, or nearly kill Astrid because he’s trying to hunt dragons and you’re in his way. That trap in the woods that was used to injure you, that wasn’t because he wanted to hurt you—no. He did all that because he was trying to draw me out. He was trying to find me. Ahraya must have killed herself because she knew Viggo would use the cure to make money, and I knew what the cure was. That’s why she told me to hide.”

“You mean to say that Viggo is not a Dragon Hunter; he’s trying to make money by infecting people with deadly diseases, then selling them a cure?” Hiccup was appalled. He knew Viggo was heartless, but he didn’t think anyone could be _that_ heartless.

“That seems to be so,” Catia mumbled sadly. “And now he has us trapped. He knows, because that record was made by the Grimborns, that no one has ever survived Freya’s Fever. If Astrid lives, then he’s knows we found a cure. If she dies, which none of us are willing to let happen, he doesn’t have a cure and he’ll just keep trying. He knows I won’t give up.”

“We’re not letting Astrid die.”

“If Astrid lives, then Viggo wins. He’s a game player, and he will stop at _nothing_ to win this game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. (Of Part 1)
> 
> So...are you ready for Part 2 yet? Have I left you on a more than terrible cliffhanger? Is Astrid going to die? Will Viggo win? Read part 2 to find out! It's coming soon, I promise!
> 
> In the mean time, tell me what you think of this series(and book) so far. There's only one book left guys! Ahh! 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave kudos!
> 
> ~Spinofflady


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